Three words is all it takes
by Thyllia
Summary: After the War, Hermione is left empty and tired. She decides to do something new. Something fun. And finds out love really isn't that simple. The rating will probably change a bit as I add new chapters.
1. Prelude

Hermione opened her eyes, feeling so sore she could barely move. She took a look around her, not knowing at all where she'd woken up to. The room was dark, and a quick glance at the window on her left told her it was the middle of the night, maybe a bit later than that. Running over the last day's happenings in her mind, she rapidly recognized the place she lay in, paralysed with pain and fatigue. A smile came to her lips when she understood she was in the girl's dormitory, in her own bed. Just as she mentally commented on that, she realized the bed's softness under her back, the comfort of having pillows piled up under her head, the reassuring freshness of a pair of clean pyjamas against her skin. She sat up with a groan, and looked up to see all beds in the room were taken by her fellow Gryffindors. Everyone was trying to recover from that exhausting day they had been through. How long had it been since Hermione last felt the air so calm? Months, years probably. Since she first got on that train on October first, to enter the world of Magic. Today, she realized, Lord Voldemort was no more, and everyone was relieved. Looking back at the window, Hermione wondered if she had slept through the entire day since the morning's battle, or if it was the following night. Either way, she felt like she could have slept a bit more, and considered one second dropping back into the softness of her bed. But a thought came to her. Harry. Ron. She needed to see them. See how they had been since the last time they'd spoken- that time being just before they all went for some sleep, early in the day, feeling exhaustion was stronger then than anything else.

Hermione sat up straight, and got out of her bed, trying not to wake anyone else with her muffled shrieks. Her entire body was aching, from the muscles in her back, arms and legs to her swollen knees and cut hands. Grabbing her wand on her nightstand, she whispered a soft "Lumos" and looked around for something to wear. It felt weird not having her enormous trunk sit at the end of her bed... A neatly folded pile of clothes lay on a chair next to her bed, and Hermione silently thanked whoever had put them there. She got rid of her pajamas and put on the jeans, T-shirt and jacket she had found, along with a pair of clean shoes. She tried for a little while to make her hair look presentable, but soon gave up. Her wild curls seemed to want to express their independence to any form of brush Hermione presented them. She couldn't really blame them for it. Everyone was now free of all menace, and she herself would be glad to soon be able to walk the streets like she was just an ordinary witch- which she was indeed. She had first thought of heading directly to the opposite dormitory and check on her friends, but before she had time to reach the staircase her stomach informed her otherwise. Hermione realized she was starving. She decided waking up the boys could wait until she had eaten something. Pushing back the thoughts of the dead lying across the floor of the Great Hall, which was something she really did not want to think about right now, she went down the stairs into the empty Gryffindor common room, and out the portrait hole.

The castle seemed to be sleeping as deeply as its students, and the only noise that broke its heavy silence was the soft tapping of Hermione's feet against the floor. Looking around, she could see the injures Hogwarts had suffered. Pieces of walls lay around, along with shattered armors and fallen portraits. The wind caressed the scene, entering from a few broken windows, and whirling around the silent corridors. The remaining walls were covered in black streaks, and Hermione shivered while trying to stop herself from wondering how many of them were a result of a killing-curse having been shot at one of her friends.

She didn't meet a single soul on her way to the kitchens, as even the castle ghosts seemed to be taking a night off. This is why, as she approached the hidden door, the sound of cutlery alerted her. She pushed the door opened slightly, and saw someone sitting at one of the large wooden table the school elves used to prepare food. He was in the act of pouring himself another glass of Firewhisky, and didn't notice Hermione had entered the room. As she got closer, she recognized the thick red hair and freckled-necked man who was drowning his sorrows in a glass. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and waited for him to take her presence into account.

'Hi' she said, as Charlie Weasley slowly turned his face towards her. 'I'm sorry... I didn't mean to come bother you in any way... I just woke up, and thought I could head to the kitchens unnoticed... I...' She didn't have time to finish her last sentence, as the second Weasley boy slowly placed a finger on top of her lips, shutting them close. Hermione the realized he looked a lot less drunk than what she would have thought. His eyes were a bit red, but their intense hazel looked up at the young witch with nothing but understanding and kindness. She stopped trying to explain her presence, and found herself taking a seat next to Charlie. He hadn't stopped looking at her, with some sort of nostalgic air in his stare. Finally, he tried on a timid, yet not very convincing smile.

'Hi back...' And then, taking up his glass and taking a sip at the alcohol, 'Feel better after two days of non-stop sleeping?'

Hermione was surprised at this last remark. 'Did I really sleep that long?' Adding with a small giggle. 'Well I must have been even more tired than I thought I was...' 'Still am', she added as an afterthought. 'How about you?' She finished, sounding concerned about the young man. He had fallen in the contemplation of the amber liquor in his glass. He sighed heavily and turned back to her.

'I couldn't tell, really. I think nothing's had time to sink in yet. I still can't picture... Fred being gone...' He had finished is sentence in a murmur. He took his glass to his mouth and emptied it in a gulp. He coughed as the Firewhiskey made its way down his throat, and bent down his head, his ginger hair falling around his face. Hermione timidly placed her hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

'Me neither.' She said, her voice a lot less confident than she had wanted it to be. 'I keep thinking this is all a very bad dream and I'll wake up soon, and he'll be there... Along with all the others...' A few tears ran down her face as she finished her words, and she realized she really wanted to cry, scream out everything. But she held back, thinking Charlie really didn't need shuch a display right now. She would keep it for later. She quickly brushed away the tears and looked back at Charlie, who was now looking back. She cleared her throat and tried to change the subject. She really couldn't allow herself to think about all the negative sides of the previous days.

'I'm going to fix myself something to eat. Do you want anything?' She had wanted her voice to sound sympathetic and light, but didn't really know if it came out that way. He seemed to think for a moment as she was getting up, staring absently at the wall behind her, and finally answered in a distant voice, making it look like he was completely lost in his thoughts. 'I thing I would like that...' He took the half-emptied bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand, and after having stared at it for a few seconds, he added: 'Can I get you something to drink?'

Hermione was already getting some bread and cheese out of a cupboard, not feeling like doing anything more complex than a sandwich. 'Sure, why not.' Charlie conjured a glass from a nearby cupboard, and poured some liquor into it. He placed the glass on the table and waited for the girl to come back, holding a plate of sandwiches in her hand.

'Thanks.' They both said at the same time. They smiled at each other faintly at this. Charlie picked up the piece of bread filled with cheese that was made for him from the plate, looking dreamily at it, while Hermione took a small sip of the drink, letting it heat the inside of her throat and stomach. They started eating in silence, each realizing how good a piece of bread could taste, after the times they had been through. Seeing out of the corner of her eye the way the Weasley boy dug into his meal, Hermione thought he probably hadn't eaten anymore than her since the battle. She ate with as little manners as he did, feeling like she hadn't eaten anything in years, and drained everything with the end of her Firewhiskey, on which she choked a little. Charlie turned his face to her, having swallowed his last bite.

'Hermione, I don't know how you did it, but that was probably the best cheese sandwich I ever had.' He felt a little lighter now he had put something inside his stomach, and was starting to smile at her a little. She smiled back, and took the bottle away from him as he was about to refill his glass.

'Well try not throwing it up in that case.'

He let out a small laugh at her saying this, and nodded in agreement.

'I think it would be time for me to get back to bed.' He said still grinning a bit.

'So will I', was her answer. In silent agreement, they both lifted themselves from the heavy wooden bench, and started walking to the corridor. As they passed the Great Hall, Hermione stiffened however, thinking of the people inside. Charlie probably noticed that, because he got closer to her then and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She welcomed the attention of one of the people she considered as her brothers. They walked in silence until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She let them in without asking for a password, and they found themselves in the common room, as empty as it had been when Hermione had seen it on her way to the kitchens. Charlie, who still held her by the shoulder, suddenly turned her around so she would face hil, in the middle of the room. He looked her in the eye, holding both shoulders now.

'Hermione,' He started in a soft voice. 'I know it's hard to think that people have died during this war...' He paused briefly, fighting off some of his own thoughts. 'It's not something joyful to lose a member of your family in such a way... But nonetheless, we mustn't forget the rest of what happened. Mainly, the fact that Harry, along with you and Ron, freed us from something that would surely have killed even more people if it hadn't been stopped. We can't forget why they died.' With that last sentence, his hands hardened a bit on the young lady's shoulders. 'Fred, or Remus, or anyone else, would want us to forget that... At least I don't think they would.' Hermione could see how much it was costing him to say those words. 'And on top of all that, I need you to promise me something...' She was looking up at him, her eyes starting to tear up at the words she felt she needed to hear, but didn't want to hear at the same time. She nodded once, showing she wanted to hear the rest. 'Please... never blame yourself, or anything you did, for what happened.'

At that last sentence, Hermione felt her knees weaken, her eyes fill entirely with tears, and she started crying openly. If it hadn't been for Charlie holding her, she would have sank to the floor this instant. She felt his arms wrap around her, protecting her from the outside world, letting her feelings submerge her. He leaded her softly to one of the red and gold sofas and sat next to her, holding her tight. Through her sobs, Hermione tried to speak, but the words died in her mouth. She was half conscious of the fact that he was stroking her hair, trying to calm her down. She could feel all the emotions finally rush to her all at once. Guilt. Anger. Pain, a lot of it. The faces danced before her eyes, all those loving faces of the people she would never see again. She had no idea how long they had sat this way, Hermione crying into Charlie's robes, while he held her against him. Finally, she felt the tears ease a bit, the ball in her throat start to decrease, and the shaking in her hands and shoulders go away. Slowly, very slowly, she looked up at the Weasley boy, her face wet and swollen. He smiled at her, a kind, loving smile, and she realized he had cried as well.

'I'm so sorry' she blurted. 'I just... thought we would all make it...' Her voice cracked up again. 'Young Teddy will never get to see his parents...'

She felt Charlie's hand brushing hair out of her face, and looked up again. 'He will know they were heroes, and died to give him a better future. He'll be proud of them, I am sure.' He put a hesitant, but true, smile on his face, and Hermione wondered how he could go through all this with such calm. 'We have to carry on living, for the ones we've lost. And make sure they aren't forgotten.' She nodded, as she felt her words were the complete truth.

'It won't be easy though...' She said, shifting on the sofa. 'No one said it would' was Charlie's answer. He hugged Hermione like a brother hugs a sister, and then looked at her once more, clearing her face of the remaining tears.

'I think you should get back to bed, now. You need to rest. You think you can make it to your dorm?'

She just nodded, incapable of adding anything. She got up like a ghost, and headed for the stairs. Just before she started climbing, she turned back to the red-haired man.

'You should do the same, you know...' He smiled at her. 'I will, don't worry.'

She set her foot on the first step, but brought it down again. Turning back, she called:

'And... Charlie?'

'Hhhm?'

'Thank you...'

He took his head from the back of the sofa, where he was already dozing off, and grinned.

'Anytime.'


	2. Decisions, decisions

Hermione slumped heavily into the little garden bench, in the far end of the Burrow's garden, and let out a heavy sigh. Two months had passed since the battle against Voldemort. Two awfully long and exhausting months, during which it seemed to her that she had taken care of everyone but herself. She let her head fall back against the wooden surface, looking up to the stars. The night was cloudless, and a warm breeze gently swayed the nearby trees. She wondered how long it was since she last had been able to enjoy an evening to herself. She couldn't actually remember any. She sighed again to the empty night. She had had put up a strong face for the past two months, trying to hold everyone's spirits together, forgetting her own grief in the process. She had taken upon cheering up Ron and Harry, although he soon found Ginny was better at rejoicing him and therefore was something less Hermione had to think about, even though it did sting a bit.

Hermione let her mind go back over the events of Fred's funeral. She had sat next to her freckled friend, or boyfriend, since she didn't really know how to consider him back then, in the second row of black robes gathered to remember the mischievous twin one last time. She remembered with a pang of pain the expression on George's face. His red and swollen eyes were planted in his greyish face, looking absently at the black box that now detained his brother's body. He had been inconsolable since the day his other half had vanished, hardly spoken a word to anyone on the rare occasions he ever left his room. Hermione's gaze had drifted with some sort of guilt from the young man's face, not wanting to disturb his thoughts. But what her eyes had found next had done nothing to lighten up her already heavy mood. She had glimpsed at Ginny's trembling chin and pursed lips, and known she had been about to cry. The man leading the ceremony had just mentioned Fred's name for the second time since the beginning of the gathering when the young witch's best friend had burst out into a torrent of tears that had torn her heart out in pieces. She had wanted to move over to her, as she sat only one row in front of her, but found she could hardly even lift her hand to squeeze her trembling shoulder. That is when Harry, who had been sitting at her right, had wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. They had not said three words to each other since the previous week and the battle, but both had just sat there, wrapped in each other's arms for the rest of the gathering, Ginny crying painfully and Harry rocking her gently, telling her everything would be alright. At that moment Hermione herself had wished for someone to hug her and tell her she would be fine, while she could let out all the pain that was driving her mad through tears. But one glance at Ron at her side told her she couldn't do that. He was the one who needed supporting. The rest of the day, as Hermione remembered it, was nothing but a blur of black robes and tears, of pain and hot tea. She had held Ron's hand throughout the gathering and the following reception that huddled the Weasley family and friends at the Burrow, but she couldn't help herself to glance over at Harry and Ginny tightly holding one another, looking like they needed nothing more than each other to get by. She wished once again for someone to help her through, while knowing she wouldn't be able to let herself go.

The rest of the summer had passed quite in this manner. She had eventually started to officially date Ron, and he had been as nice as he could have been towards her. But he was still in such a shock to realize people had actually died that he was unable to give her much attention. They would sit on the small and remote bench she was currently occupying, talking sometimes, kissing others, but mostly Hermione had stroked his back while letting him wet the shoulder of her robes. She didn't care much about helping him through his losses, although it took her an enormous amount of energy to console him.

The summer night was silent except for the subtle swoosh of leaves in the trees and a few crickets singing their ode to the moonlight. And Hermione felt empty. Terribly empty. She found herself longing for a bit of solitude a lot more than she would have thought. She needed to get away from everything, to let herself heal the wounds she was just starting to realize were as bare and bleeding as they were the day she had walked in the Great Hall in Hogwarts, and seen it crowded with people she had known, lying dead on the castle ground. She needed a bit of fresh air and something to do to escape those places and people who reminded her so much of that. She heard Ron arrive before she saw him. His heavy footsteps were softened by the thick grass, but he had a way of walking that could hardly be mistaken with anyone else's. He sat next to her, taking her in him arms, and silently let his head find her shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment, looking absent-mindedly at the lights around the table through the trees. The freckled wizard let a kiss fall on Hermione's temple before straightening up a bit and taking a look at her. Those days, he seemed to be in a much less gloomy mood than he had been, more at peace with himself.

'How are you, love?' Hermione grinned at the way he called her 'love'. It would always make her grin a little when he did. She turned her head round to meet his eyes and nodded weakly.

'I'm not too bad. Though I'm quite tired.' As if to emphasize the last words, she let out a drained sigh, looking at him with a thoughtful expression, curling a finger around a lock of her dark and frizzy hair.

'Say Ron, have you thought about what you're going to do next year?'

The red-headed man looked taken aback by the question, obviously not having dwelled on the matter at all. 'Well, not really... 'Suppose I'll get back to Hogwarts and get my N.E.W.T.s, so I can get some time to think that out...'

Hermione nodded in agreement. It seemed a fairly appropriate choice.

'How about you then? I'm guessing you'll do the same?' He seemed hopeful that she would be joining him. She hated the fact that what she was about to say would bring his hopes down.

'Well, I don't really know. But for the time being, I rather think I shouldn't go back there. The memories are still too fresh.' He looked fairly disappointed to hear that.

'But I thought... You know... Being you and all that, surely you would want to finish school...' She couldn't help but giggle slightly at the puppy-eyed features on Ron's face, and the comment he had blurted out, which she found very true. She had actually considered going through her N.E.W.T. year, but brushed the idea aside. Too many things would have reminded her about last April, and too many people would have asked questions.

'Yeah... Well I figured I could take a year off... Take up a flat somewhere and work for a bit... I was thinking about going abroad.'

She was looking at the sky again, trying to name the stars she could see, a contemplative expression crossing her face.

'But... Where would you go?' Ron looked half panicked at the mention of Hermione going so far away. She set her eyes back on him, trying to look soothing.

'I don't really know... I suppose anywhere would be all right. I just need a bit of time to myself, to sort things out. I love the Burrow, but it's just too full of things I can't get out of my head. And my parents have decided once the memory Charm was gone, that they actually liked Australia so much they wanted to stay there. I think in truth they don't want to see me that much, after what I did to them.' Her throat got a little tighter as she had lefts her mind go back to the cold and distant letter she had received a month before, in which her mother said not to visit them until the end of the holidays, to give them time to sort themselves. She brushed the thought aside to keep from crying.

Ron now looked almost angry. 'I don't like the idea of you going away somewhere by yourself, when some Death Eaters are still out there' he mumbled.

Hermione cleared her throat. 'I never said I wanted to be completely by myself, Ron. Just that I would enjoy a bit of calm, and to be able to do something new.' Ron seemed a little relieved. He nodded absently, very deep in thoughts. They remained silent for the next few minutes, until he turned round to her once more, like if he was struck with the most brilliant idea anyone could have thought about.

'Hermione?'

'Hhm?'

'You like magical creatures, don't you?'

She gave him a quizzical stare, but he just nodded for her to response. 'Well, yes, but wha—'

'And you like to study, have your head in books and all?' He interrupted eagerly.

'You know I like having my head in books' she answered with a smile.

'Well, I dunno what you'll think of it, but you could always join my brother Charlie in Romania. He's always trying to gather more people there, claims there's never enough staff...'

Hermione sat silent for a while, thinking. She had not even gone in that direction, to be very honest with herself. She had not even thought about Charlie much at all since their encounter in the empty Gryffindor common room, the day after the battle. She looked at Ron almost incredulously. This was actually a very good idea. Charlie was not the type to bother one with questions. And she would have someone to go to if she ever felt homesick. Plus, she had always had a thing for dragons. Even if they did terrorize her more than a bit. Ron was staring at her with a confused look now, his eyebrows perched up high and his mouth half open. The lack of reply from Hermione was obviously troubling him.

'Did I say something wrong, love?' Hermione's face lit in a bright smile, and she shook her head, amused. She narrowed the space between their faces, leaning on him to give him a kiss. She felt a shiver go down her spine at the feeling of the wizard's lips against hers. Braking up a moment after, she resumed grinning.

'You said something quite interesting, actually.' Ron's face lit up in turn, and he was about to add something when Molly Weasley's voice broke out from the kitchen, summoning everyone to dinner. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and got up tiredly from the bench. They walked hand in hand through the empty garden, enjoying a last moment of silence before they entered the already crowded kitchen.

The entire Weasley family was gathered around the table, on which a huge plate of chicken and a bowl of mashed potatoes were sitting, surrounded by smaller plates of different types of vegetable. Hermione slid inside one of the remaining seats, next to Ginny. She smiled at her friend, noting absently that Charlie was sitting on her right. She saw Ron slide down a seat nearly opposite hers, and starting to fix himself a plate instantly. She laughed in her head. There was one thing even a war couldn't take from the youngest Weasley boy: his appetite. She helped herself as well, but only played around with the piece of chicken and the few beans she had gathered. The bright kitchen was animated by conversation, as everyone appeared to be in a rather good mood. Even George, who only came down to dinner ever so rarely, was down with the rest and joining conversation. No one seemed to notice Hermione, who sat silently poking around her plate. She was glad for it too, as she was not really in the mood for any talking right now. Romania seemed an awfully good idea, and the more she thought about it the more it made sense to the young witch. She needed a change of air the country could most surely provide, and dragons were a highly fascinating subject, from what she had heard the second oldest Weasley boy depict. She was so lost in thoughts about immense pine forests and wild creatures she nearly jumped upon feeling a hand on her wrist. Looking up wearily, she saw Charlie's face staring back into hers. She found him a bit confused.

'You all right Hermione? You've barely touched your food...'

His remark seemed to draw the entire table's attention to her, especially Molly's. Exactly what she didn't need. Giving everyone a not-too-convincing smile, due to her dreamy eyes, she tried to get attention off her again.

'Yeah, I'm fine... I was just thinking.' And to emphasize her comment, she rapidly stuffed a bite of chicken in her mouth, glancing at Mrs. Weasley across the table with a shy smile. She smiled back, and her answer suited most of the diners. Still Ron and Charlie remained focused on her. One looked supportive, while the other looked concerned. Ron let out a few words in between mouthfuls of potato.

'She was thinking about following you back to Romania to study dragons.' He said conversationally.

'Is that so?' Hermione nodded, not wanting to get her hopes up too high until she was sure this would actually work. 'I need to go somewhere else for a while... Too much memories in here...' She found she sounded a lot less confident than she had intended, but Charlie seemed to understand, as he was nodding reflexively, his eyebrows joined in thought. After a moment he spoke again in a joyful tone.

'Well I'd be glad to have you until you settle down if that helps. You'll see then why I love dragons so much.' He gave her a genuine grin. 'I was thinking about getting there in a fortnight, if you want to join.'

'I think I'd like that.' And she really did. She gave Charlie one last smile before returning to her plate. She glimpsed at Ron in doing so, and couldn't miss the sadness reflected in his eyes, even if it was only visible for one split second. She felt a pang of guilt rush through her at the thought of abandoning Ron, but at the same time felt she really did need to get away. They would write, in any way, and she would come back a few times during his holidays.

Hermione strode meaninglessly around the garden. Later through dinner, George had brought up the subject of reopening his shop in Diagon Alley. That had naturally led to a general conversation about what everyone would do the following year. Bill was moving back to Egypt with pregnant Fleur, as he couldn't stand pacing around the British Gringott's anymore and waiting meaninglessly for something to happen. Charlie would head back to Romania. George had asked Ron to help him manage the shop, but the youngest Weasley boy wasn't sure whether to finish seventh year and get as much N.E.W.T.s as he could, since he could picture himself being an Auror pretty well, and starting a joker's career. Ginny was to finish school, of course. Harry had been offered by Kingsley the chance to go through Auror training even without the required N.E.W.T.s, since he had faced so many Dark Arts already. When it came to Hermione, everyone was a bit surprised that she didn't want to go through seventh year, much the way Ron had been, but at length they all thought it was a good idea for her to go study abroad. Charlie was overenthusiastic, seeing he would be able to let someone in on his passion. They had discussed the matter conversationally, as if it had been the most basic talk about the weather, but all in all Hermione was pleased to have Weasley approval. She was now going through everything in her mind, considering what was to come. She had made a mental note to get to Diagon Alley the following day, and buy as many books as she could on dragons. She already owned a few, as she owned a few books on every possible subject. Her favourite species appeared to be the Antipodean Opaleye. She imagined a ten foot tall creature, beaming white and graciously flying over a dark Romanian forest. She was most eager to see that. Lost in thought, she had drifted towards the end of the garden, heading unconsciously to the river that ran along the back. She breathed heavily to fill her lungs with the pure evening air and sat down on the edge of the water. She hadn't been aware that someone had followed her, and was most surprised to see a red-haired figure sit down next to her.

'Trying to escape again, are we Miss Granger?'

She laughed a bit in Charlie's direction. 'Well it looks like you've found me, Mister Weasley.'

He gave her a light grin, before looking at her a bit more seriously. His blue eyes were glimmering in the moonlight. Hermione remembered with a sigh that, would he have been alive, Remus would have transformed the following night.

'You know', Charlie went on 'Ron's going to be completely lost without you.' Hermione looked at him, a hint of shame bothering her features.

'I know. But I'll kill myself if I keep on living the way I am.' She gave the older Weasley a concerned look before carrying on. 'I really like him, he's one of my best friends and I wouldn't mind spending my whole life with him for that matter. But he takes up too much energy from me at the moment. I know he's in pain and he needs support, but I'm in pain too. And... well I haven't been able to let it out yet.' By now, her eyes had started to prickle with the awakening of tears, and her voice had begun to tremble. Charlie set his hand on her shoulder. It reminded the girl of the last time she had cried. It was that night, after the battle. She had cried into his shirt, and he had found the words to get her moving again. It warmed her to see him so caring, but she didn't want to bother him too much.

'I know what you mean, or at least I think I do.' He gave out a deep sigh. He suddenly seemed older than Hermione had ever seen him. 'I've lost one of my brothers to this war... and also one of my best friends.'

'Tonks?' Hermione cursed herself for being so nosy, but just as she was about to apologize he shook his head, looking up to the stars.

'Yeah... Tonks... We were in the same year, at Hogwarts. Dated each other for a fare amount of time, too.'

'Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't know that...' Hermione suddenly felt bad for thinking she was suffering such great losses. She was lucky to still have so many people she cared about around her. Charlie didn't really seem upset though when he set his gaze back on her.

'S'all right. We'll see each other again one day.' He gave her a timid smile. She noticed he had a lovely smile. He then pulled her into his arms, holding her close against his muscular body. She clang on to his robes for a minute, letting herself fall into the comfort on his protection. She considered herself part of the Weasley family, and all the boys except Ron as her brothers. Yet Charlie was the one she considered the most like a big brother. He had always been around when she had trouble. They had owled each other while she was in Hogwarts, giving news and comforting each other in times of doubt. Hermione hadn't really seen the necessity of telling others about that.

When they finally broke apart, the night felt colder on the witch's skin and she started to shiver, out of the warmness of the red-head. Seeing that, Charlie got to his feet. 'We should get back inside.' She nodded absently and followed him as he started moving. The prospect of leaving with him felt like a very good thing to do.


	3. Getting there

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**Well here's my third chapter. I know it took some time to have it written down, but some phrases just didn't want themselves written... I think I'll be looking for a beta to write the next one, if anybody's interested... **

**Now, about the names in this chapter... For those of you who don't know, Cian is to be pronounced Kian, and Saoirse is something along the lines of Seersha. They're both typical Irish names that come from Gaelic. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

'I've got a present for you.'

Hermione tilted her head to the side at the blunt declaration. She ran a finger through her dampened hair. Of course, the day she was going to travel by Portkey, it had to have rained. She was standing on top of a hill, near the Burrow. If she remembered rightly, they weren't too far from the spot they had been portkeyed to de Quidditch world cup form. Their Portkey was due in fifteen minutes, and Ron, George, Harry and Ginny were keeping Hermione and Charlie company until the battered hat started glowing. Ron took a packet out of his pocket he had very obviously wrapped himself. Hermione took it with a sincere smile and placed a light kiss on his lips, with a quiet 'Thank you.'

'You can open it now' He added hastily. He seemed proud of his finding. The young witch tore the wrapping paper delicately, careful not to break it, and took out the small notebook it had covered. On the front a white dragon with glittering eyes breathed a colourful flame represented by multicoloured sequins. Hermione's name was engraved on the cardboard page. She gasped, stroking the cover gently and trying to protect it from the drizzling rain that poured over her. 'It's beautiful.'

Ron grinned all the way to his ears, turning a bit red. 'It's one of George's latest products. It's not out yet. It's a 'Cheater's Cheeky Carnet'.' He explained in a rush. Hermione's brow lifted slightly as she gazed at the red-head. 'But it's not just for cheating, you know. Well, I have one too, you see, and the two notebooks are charmed together. If I write something in mine then it'll appear in yours.' His voice sounded sweetly ashamed as he went on with his explanation. 'That way... We'll be able to keep in touch. Although George said since the books will be so far apart it might take a few hours for the writing to go all the way. It's still faster than owls, I reckon.' When he stopped staring at his shoes and looked back to Hermione, he took in her bright smile and his heart fastened a bit. She put the Carnet in her backpack, not taking her eyes off Ron, and wrapped her arms around him. He gladly returned her hug, and they stood for a moment, getting themselves soaked and not caring about it. Finally Hermione broke their embrace to look up at the tall boy she was so sorry for leaving behind. He leaned in and kissed her in a way that made her whole body warm up. They were brought back down to earth by Ginny calling over the rain. 'All right, Portkey's here. Hermione get off my brother or you'll miss it.'

They broke apart, and the witch set her light hazel eyes in his darker brown ones. 'Write to me every day?' She asked timidly.

'Of course.' She gave him one last kiss and moved to say goodbye to Ginny, George and Harry. She would miss the lot of them, but behind the Portkey a whole new world lay out for her to discover. She waved them a last goodbye and set her hand on the old glowing hat, thrusting her free hand inside Charlie's.

'Ready?' He asked.

'As much as can be.' She answered with a grin.

The world started to distort and soon she was thrown inside the familiar, sickening tunnel. She clasped to Charlie like her life depended on it. The 'ride' was longer than she had thought it would be, but then again Romania wasn't that close. She soon felt seasick, and was awfully glad to find the ground under her feet after what appeared like an eternity of being torn apart in all directions. She hated travelling by Portkey, but it was by far the easiest way to go so far. She stumbled when meeting solid ground and tried to regain her very altered balance. Failing miserably. The young witch found herself on her bottom, her head swinging madly and ears blotted the way it would usually get after a long plane ride. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts a bit, and did not take notice that a very bright pink-shaped object had appeared in her field of vision. When she did, she automatically followed the skin-toned bit that was attached to it, and all the way to something red, somewhere above her. Charlie's face was the first thing she managed to focus her blurry vision on. He wore a half smile, probably amused at seeing her on the floor with the look of utter confusion she felt across her face. Her eyes went back down along his arm, to land on the glass of fizzy fuchsia potion he was holding out. Now, this made a bit more sense. She recognised Miss Messy's Hangover Reliever, and sighed contently.

'Thanks' was all she managed to say before grabbing the cup greedily and downing it all at once. Her head lightened nearly instantly, and she got up –shakily, yes, but got up nonetheless, catching the corner of a nearby table to steady herself.

'Don't worry about it. I know how it feels' Charlie answered when he saw her get better. 'Did that to me as well the first times I went through a twenty minute long Portkey ride.'

She gave out a small giggle. 'Those probably were the worst twenty minutes of my life... Well if you count all the Voldemort chasing out obviously.' She felt him flinch more than saw it. That name was still an issue for some, as well as the thoughts it brought up. She was not sure which had set the Weasley boy off.

'Well are you feeling any better now?'

'Loads better actually. And thanks for Miss Messy's. I didn't know it could be used for anything other than hangovers... But then again the two feelings are very similar.'

He chuckled. 'I suppose they are.' He caught his bag from the floor and held hers out for her. 'Well now that you're all set, I say we get out of the Portkey arrival areas and get to through with the administrative part. After that's done you'll get to meet some very good friends of mine.' He trailed off and started smiling dreamily. He had mentioned some of his friend a few times, and they sounded like fun.

'We only get to the reserve tomorrow, don't we?' The hazel-eyed witch asked, following him out of the small room into a corridor that reminded her strongly of St Mungo's.

'Right you are' He answered, pushing a wooden door open and letting her through.

'Anything special planned, since we're in Bucharest?' He glanced her way with a mischievous twinkle that was normally found in the twins' eyes. Or at least the remaining one. Hermione fought that trail of thoughts off. She was not ready to face any of this just yet. She quirked an eyebrow in response.

They entered a wider room, filled with rows of lined up desks. Hermione found weird that only three of them had people seated behind when there were over twenty altogether. He led her to one of the used ones, taking his passport out of his back pocket. He gestured towards it. 'You have it with you, right?' She gave her a warning glance that was meant to remind him he was talking to the most organized witch of her age. He shrugged and sat down in front of a tall balding man with almond-shaped eyes.

'Passports?" The man asked them, with a very peculiar way of pronouncing his r's, rolling them much the ways the Spanish did, but with a hint of something even more foreign in it. Both friends handed their documents to him. The royalties took them even longer than the actual trip, as Hermione had to fill in an enormous pile of papers to apply for a residential visa. It reminded her of the trips she took with her parents to France over the holidays, through Muggle transports.

An hour and a half later, they were out of the arrival building and in the streets of Bucharest. The sun was slowly setting in the distance. Hermione gasped at how hot the air was and took off her jacket. Charlie led her towards a small group of people apparently waiting for him with a broad smile on his face.

'Charlie!' A small girl shrieked, starting to run towards him. Her bright green ponytails startled Hermione for a second. The girl was wearing a delicate black dress and a torn pair of tights. She threw herself in the Weasley's arms with a laugh.

'Anca, I've missed you!' He answered, spinning her around in his arms. Three other silhouettes approached them meanwhile, amused at a scene which was apparently routine. When the redhead lowered the girl to the ground again, he seemed to realize Hermione was still there. He cleared his throat with a grin and turned to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

'Well, Hermione, meet some of my friends. This is Anca.' He gestured towards the green-haired girl. 'She's a Romanian animagus, and probably my best friend to walk this earth.' Said Anca beamed at Hermione and winked at her. 'Then, you have Cian and Saoirse, the Irish brothers.' A tall sandy brown-haired man came forward and shook Hermione's hand vigorously. His eyes were a startling shade of blue. Behind him stood a smaller witch with dark hair. She waved at the girl with a shy welcoming grin. Moving Hermione a bit further, he turned her in front of a tanned black-haired man. 'And this is my very good friend Luca. He's from Italy and he can practically sing dragons to sleep.' The comment was met with a short bark of laugh, as Luca grabbed the young witch's hand and lowered his head to brush his lips against the skin of her hand. She blushed slightly.

'And you,' he looked back at her, 'must be Hermione!' Smile at him and nod was all she managed. 'Welcome to Romania!' squeaked Anca, jumping up and down on the spot. 'Charlie wrote to us about you, he said you were a nice girl.' The smile on her face was so warm and welcoming Hermione relaxed a bit. She always felt awkward in front of people she didn't know.

'Well that's very nice of you, Charlie.' She gave him a small nudge in the arm. He just waved off the comment. 'Yeah, well, now you've all been introduced, let's get going. I'm starved!' Everyone just laughed at the comment, and Hermione got the distinct impression Weasley appetite was legendary here as much as it was in Britain. The crowd made its way on the street until they came to a stop in front on a tiny, sappy pub. Cian informed her it was the Romanian equivalent of London's Leaky Cauldron. Hermione took a moment to get a detailed look of everyone. They seemed to be a happy bunch. All worked at the reserve along with Charlie. Anca was one of the rare wizards working there to be a native, as most of the Romanian folk preferred ministry jobs or going abroad. Cian and Saoirse had arrived before Charlie, and worked everything as a duo. They weren't twins, but Saoirse was only one year older than her brother. They reminded Hermione of the way Fred and George used to act. She pushed the allusion aside, not wanting to let everyone witness her cracking up. As they made their way inside the bar and through a wooden door in the back, her stomach started growling angrily. Hermione blushed, but everyone just laughed playfully.

'I thought she was not a Weasley, Charlie. But it looks like she is as hungry as one!' That was Anca speaking.

'Yeah, well she _is_ dating my brother, so I guess it rubbed off on her.' The party nodded their agreement. Her going out with Ron was apparently no news. It made her a little uncomfortable, but then again she would not have to clarify things later on. And she was quite hungry too.

The Romanian version of Diagon Alley was something entirely different, but at the same time the place felt like she had already been there. The shops were smaller, more diversified and yet more colourful and bright. The whole thing looked like a busy street on a market day rather than an established commercial lane. The group walked eagerly towards a counter, at the end of the street. Men were cooking full porks on top of huge fires while women moved about with plates of drinks. Anca ordered them all meals in Romanian while the rest of the group headed towards a free table. The entire scene was set outside, and reminded Hermione of a village party. The trees around were covered in lights, and the indistinct chatter that reached them from the shopping street behind them mingled with music. Hermione sat between Luca and Charlie on a wooden bench. Soon, Anca joined them, and not long after a curvy witch brought them a tray of butterbeers and a bottle of transparent liquid that did not smell like water. Glasses were passed around and filled with the liquor.

'Ever had Vodka, Hermione?' Charlie asked. She shook a nervous head. 'Well then, there's a first to everything. Just don't tell mum, she would probably ground me if she knew...' He was only half joking. Cian chuckled and held up his glass.

'Well, cheers everyone.' They all lifted their glass and downed them at once. Hermione coughed as the liquor burned through her throat, harder than Firewhiskey. She felt Luca's hand pat her back gently with laughter in his eyes. She just smiled and turned back to the table. The witch had come back with a huge plate of grilled pieces of pork and a bowl of mash. They all started to dig in. In between bites, Charlie explained to her it was tradition to come here on the first day, party with the people in Bucharest at the same time, and then head to camp the following day.

The night fell on the cheerful crowd, which after emptying their plated went on to downing entire bottles of Vodka. Soon Hermione felt light and dizzy. Not being used to drink, she was careful not to end up completely wasted. The atmosphere was warm and everyone made sure she was enjoying herself. She ended up without knowing how sitting next to Anca and chatting with her. Charlie was apparently some sort of legend over here. The guy who never threw up, and never fell in love. All the girls around camp tried to seduce him, but so far he hadn't kept any of them for longer than a month. As she looked up, Hermione saw him dancing away with Saoirse a small way down, with other couples. This was a very different Charlie than the one she thought she knew. Of course, he had told her a bit of the wild Romanian lifestyle, but she had never taken time to picture the way he acted around women. Somehow, she had always guessed he had some Romanian girlfriend or other. A hand on her shoulder got her back to present. Cian asked her to dance with him, so they both got up and headed for the improvised dance floor. Anca and Luca soon followed. The night got deeper to find the six of them still dancing wildly among others. At first, Hermione had a bit of difficulty learning the steps, mostly due to what she had already drank, but then the music scooped her up and she became unstoppable. The fast and cheerful music came from a small band in a corner of the open space, and the songs they ^played were a mix between Russian polka and Irish gig. She danced with Cian for a while, as he was a very good teacher and dancer at the same time. Then with Luca, who had a much more sensual approach to dancing. Finally, Charlie cut in and showed her a few more tricks. She missed the way Anca watched them as they went, eyes full of hope. After some time, they all felt a bit sore and dizzy, so the group headed back towards the table. Hermione was rightly drunk by then. And so was Luca. He got up after a short while on the bench and ran to the nearest tree. A thunder of applause and laughter welcomed him back, and Charlie slipped inside bewildered Hermione's ear: 'First one out pays for everyone.' Before getting back to joking his friend around.

Dawn was not far when the party moved itself towards the Laughing Unicorn, the pub which gave access to this part of town. Rooms had already been taken care of earlier, so everyone said goodnight rapidly before going to bed. Hermione lifted a brow upon seeing Charlie wasn't going alone, and had a tall, black-haired girl hanging on one arm. He caught her eye and shrugged with a smile. She shook her head with a giggle and said her farewells to the remaining group before heading to her own room. She let herself fall on the comfortable bed, but couldn't go to sleep just yet. There was something she was forgetting. After a few minutes of thinking, she got up in a rush, nearly falling to the ground in the process and reached for her bag. She grabbed a self-inking quill and opened the small Carnet Ron had given her earlier. She had promised herself to write to him before the day was over. She thought again for a minute, not sure what to write, and then started.

_Dear Ron,_

_Romania is great! I met a couple of your brother's friends today. Everyone was very kind. There was a welcome party thrown for us. I had good fun, but I missed you still. I hope you're having a good time in Ottery St Catchpole. I'll write to you some more tomorrow. _

_Love, _

_Hermione._

She wondered for a minute about writing down 'I love you', but although she could picture the words in her head, she was unable to tell them to Ron just yet. She laid the booklet down on her night table and made her way back to bed. The dizziness kept her awake for a few minutes, but exhaustion was stronger. That night, she dreamed about dancing with dragons, of parties and red-haired boys.


End file.
